


Drowning and Dining

by Listless_Songbird



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Horror (open wounds and bleeding), Dream Logic, It has a fluffy ending I promise!, Night Terrors, description of drowning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 20:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15714312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listless_Songbird/pseuds/Listless_Songbird
Summary: Virgil wakes up from a night terror and gets up to clear his head. When he gets downstairs he finds Patton in the same predicament





	Drowning and Dining

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so Please head the warnings on this one, the first half is pretty graphic. This started out as me projecting my learned apathy towards bad dreams onto Virgil, and then I somehow ended up with Moxiety fluff? im as confused as you are. My writing process closely resembles me being dragged bodily behind an idea.

Virgil is wandering through clouds of vibrant red and deep black fog swirling around in a bright white room. He’s not going anywhere in particular, just walking with destination in mind, but when he stops walking for a moment, the fog begins to coalesce around him and pulls at his arms and legs. But he pushes through and keeps walking.

Hours later, or maybe minutes? Time is strange and fluid and seems to slip between his fingers if he tries to hard to count it. Virgil spots a door in the distance and changes his course in order to walk towards it. The door seems to pulse with a soft radiant light, not quite visible exactly, but still there, a flicker of something in his periphery. 

Virgil reaches the door and opens it, and suddenly he’s falling down, and down and down and- 

He’s dreaming isn’t he, this can’t be reality, but he keeps falling, and falling and-

Virgil reaches the door and opens it, and he begins to fall again, but this time its not falling anymore, it’s more like drifting gently downwards. The fog from the room before the door begins to follow him down, and at first its calm, peaceful even, but once again he begins to pick up speed, the fog sticking to him like tar, dragging him faster, and faster, and faster , and-

Virgil reaches the door and opens it, this time he doesn’t fall. He walks over the abyss as if on a walkway made of glass and-

Virgil reaches the door and opens it, and is suddenly surrounded by walls made of glass. The walls are closing in around him. The door behind him disappearing into thin air. 

Shit.

He’s should have known this is how it would end, he shouldn’t have thought about it shouldn’t have thought of Anything that would have lead his mind to this dream. Virgil stares at the floor beneath his feet, gazing down into the endless blackness, falling would have been much preferable to what he knows is going to happen next. He can’t bring himself to look up, but its the only way to end this, he knows from experience. So he looks up.

Patton, Logan and Roman stare back, gazes cold and mouths twisted into a sneers. Their voices echo and twist around him and he braces himself

Worthless  
Unwanted  
Inept  
Unloved   
Annoying, Disgusting, Rotten, Foul-

The words dig into his skin, leaving behind gashes gushing blood, and even though he knew this was coming, Virgil can’t hold back his gasps as each word that flies out of their mouths opens a new wound. 

Finally he gives in and collapses to the ground, and the glass box constricts around him, leaving him pinned to the floor as slowly the box begins to fill with his blood. Virgil grits his teeth, this is the part he hates the most. It isn’t logical he thinks morbidly, his body shouldn’t be able to make this much blood.

But dreams aren’t bound by logic, and Virgil intimately knows how this particular dream goes so he doesn’t struggle to breathe when his head is covered. Or at least he tries not to, but drowning is a primal fear, one that carries through to dreams and soon he’s clawing at the walls trying to find purchase, and he cant breathe, he can’t breathe he can’t- 

 

Virgil coughs himself awake, dragging in ragged gasps trying to remember how to breathe again. Sitting up, Virgil rubs at his mouth with his sleeve, trying to rub away the phantom taste of blood that coats his tongue. He stands up and pads over to his bathroom, going about the familiar routine. Turn on the sink,splash some water on your face, fill up a glass and drink, washing away any lingering parts of the dream. 

This is why he always scoffs when Roman bemoans his inability to lucid dream. Sure being able to be aware of the wonderful things happening in dreams would be fun, but Roman could do that any day he pleased while he was awake. And he wouldn’t have to worry about getting stuck in a nightmare. Over. And over. And over again. 

Virgil sighs and shakes himself going back to his bed and sitting on the edge, not laying down, not yet anyways, he learned his lesson after the first few times. He needs to distract himself or else going to sleep will just end up a repeat performance. But for some reason the dream just keeps playing over and over again, and nothing seems to be able to distract him. 

Deciding to take a walk he quietly opens his door and slips out into the hallway. None of the others lights are on, which he didn’t expect anyway, it’s far later than even Roman’s brainstorms push him, so Virgil remains as quiet as he can as he makes his way through the darkened living room to the kitchen. Poking through the refrigerator for leftovers he nearly jumps out of his skin when someone clears their throat from the doorway. Virgil spins around, pasta container clutched to his chest as if it could defend him, and lit up by the glow from the refrigerator he sees Patton in his cat onesie gently cradling a mug of tea.

“You’re up late.” Patton moves over to lean against the stove as Virgil uncurls from his startled pose to set the pasta down on the counter, and moves to get a plate.  
“Just a bad dream, I’ll be fine in the morning.” Virgil shrugs and turns to the microwave so that his face is hidden from Patton, he’s used to these dreams by now. Having the same dream over and over has numbed him to worst parts of it. They still suck when he has them, but he’ll get over it soon. 

“What about you Pat? You never stay up this late. Sandman not playing nice?” Patton huffs out a laugh, 

“Not in really, no.” When Patton doesn’t continue, Virgil turns around and actually looks at Patton. When Patton was feeling bad, sometimes getting the words out in the order he wanted was hard. Looking at Patton, Virgil only found more evidence that he was feeling rough. Patton was curled around his mug, seemingly trying to shrink into himself, and Virgil’s heart ached. 

“Nightmare?” he asked, and when Patton nodded jerkily, “Do you want a hug?” and when Patton nodded again, Virgil gently reached out wrapped his arms around Patton’s shoulders, it was a bit awkward, because Patton was still holding onto his mug, but He seemed to be clutching it like a lifeline, so Virgil didn’t want to take it away. 

The microwave let out a shrill beep, at a decibel level that can only be achieved by something unexpected at night, and Virgil and Patton both jump. Patton jerks his mug and almost drops it, dousing both of them in tea. Thankfully, Patton had apparently been nursing the same cup for quite awhile, and the tea was barely above room temperature.

Virgil gently took the mug from Patton, whose grip on it had loosened, and set it down on the counter. When he did, he quietly pulled Patton into a hug. At this, Patton’s arms came up and clutched at Virgil’s back, Patton’s forehead resting on his shoulders. Virgil didn’t say anything, just stood and held Patton, breathing as deeply and as steadily as he could. 

Eventually Patton’s breathing began to match his own, and his grip loosened enough for Virgil to pull back and look at Patton’s face. Patton looked steadier than he had been, and no longer looked like he was trying to hide from something, so Virgil put one hand on his cheek and gave a soft smile.

“Doing alright?” Patton’s nod this time was far less jerky and Virgil lets his smile widen before he says, “I have heard from a very reliable source that comfort food is the best way to beat bad dreams. Care to join?” Patton began to grin nodded once again. 

Virgil unfolded himself from the hug, and reached across to open up the microwave. Pulling out the plate, Virgil sets it on the counter next to them, and gently moved Patton to the side so that he can pull out two forks. Holding one of them out to Patton, he grabbed the plate and hopped up onto the counter, moving to the side to make room for when Patton joined him  
.  
Together they sat in silence, leaning against the other as they made their way through the plate. When it was done Virgil put it in the sink and took one of Patton’s hands. 

“I don’t really want to go back to bed alone, you okay with me joining you tonight?” Patton squeezed Virgil’s hand as they both got off the counter, and nodded, leading them to his door.  
They both got into bed, and as Virgil was just starting to drift off, he heard Patton whisper from in front of him.

“Thank you”


End file.
